


Orange boy

by IlluminateTheSkyline



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: FTM Tyler, Flowers, Orange, Sad Josh, Sad Josh Dun, Sad Tyler, Sad Tyler Joseph, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, i have not thought this through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-15 07:16:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlluminateTheSkyline/pseuds/IlluminateTheSkyline
Summary: Marigold Joseph plants flowers and fucks stuff up. She knows who she is, or at least she did before. So what happens when she decides to go back to ignorance. Can she live with herself when she's lost herself?





	1. Field of Marigold

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a vent fic than anything I think so basically, it sucks. I'll try and improve it. I'm patient with everyone but myself so basically, I rush myself and YUP. So......Ask questions if you want, I'll try to answer them. Please correct me on anything I've got wrong and you can give suggestions if you want because I abandon things but I'm working on that now that I'm done school and have a 12 week break! I'm trying to be optimistic!!! I bought seeds today. I like seeds.

Tugging my hat down further, I watched the total number go up as my purchases were being scanned. Sweaty hands grasped at the twenty in my right hand and the worn sleeve covering my left.  
‘’£19.60, love.’’  
‘’Thanks’’ I muttered, handing over the money before scooping packets of seeds into hands to deposit them in my rucksack.  
Torturous. I’m holding everyone up as the woman waits for me to take the change. Awkward, as always. 

Walking back home, I start to consider my situation. What am I really doing? Unfortunately/ fortunately my brain decides to stop me right there, like always. Once again. My thoughts are limited to wondering where I’m going to plant my seeds this time. I’ve bought nasturtium, Emilia, marigold, and sunflower; opting for a citron theme of oranges and yellows. Last time it was all summer skies and vivid purples, I remember, twisting a faded pastel lock between my finger and thumb. Forget-me-not, nemophilia, lobelia and morning glory. My lips curve into a soft smile, recalling the way Josh had squealed when he first noticed all the tiny indigo buds blooming throughout his garden.

I can’t keep looking back though. Everything is different now. Summer is here again; I ran out of time and now the safety is gone. 

Throbbing warmth in the humid air smothers me in a thick, heavy blanket of discomfort. The dry thirst in my throat turns to bitter stinging, like a boy screaming for his father to come back and tell him that he loved him. Neglected.  
It’s not like I didn’t try to make him proud. But it’s like my mother said- ‘’Sometimes, Mary, people don’t realise that unconditional love is more than a promise; it’s something you can’t perceive. Something you can never break.’’  
I don’t know if she was trying to be kind.  
‘’Don’t make promises you can’t keep and for the love of God, don’t expect other people to keep them either.’’  
She told me that just after he left. A slammed door. Tears streaming down my blotchy, swollen face.  
She didn’t have much to say the next day, when she heard the news. Or the day after that. And so on.

He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose. Another car crashed into his; drink driver- they both died instantly. All avoidable. All my fault.

Despite knowing there was no difference it could make, after the car crash and visiting my fathers grave, I knew I had to at least try one more time to make a change. Not for me. After that day, I could never put my own selfish wants before someone else's again. So selfish.  
The day I planted those daffodil seeds in the fresh soil of his grave, I promised I’d make a new life for myself. ‘’One last attempt at life before I join you, dad.’’ I had choked out, trying desperately and failing to hold back the sobs.

 

That was about five months ago now. My thick hair is growing out awkwardly, reaching just past my bottom lip. It falls haphazardly in front of my eyes- a constant reminder of what I am doing, the colour reminding me why. 

Turning the last corner to get home, I shrug the backpack off my shoulders to search for my key. My mother would still be in, but she almost never leaves her room anymore so its not safe to leave the doors unlocked.  
I can’t have her blood on my hands too.  
We were so close before. But all good things come to an end, and I was fucking naïve if I ever thought something like me could live a normal life because.. Fuck. 

As soon as I reached the earth surrounding my home, I started digging. Began planting each marigold seed carefully in the ground. I have an obligation. There are no instructions, but this is the only thing close to a legacy I have got. So I do it. Every week. I don’t know if it’s hurting or healing me to keep planting such poignant reminders of my own guilt and grief but it’s tradition. Every week. Until the day I die. It’s part of my attempt at life. My dad always loved flowers. He chose my name with such care.  
‘’Marigold’s are like my sunflowers. My love. My muse.’’ He’d life me up and twirl me in the air, and I’d giggle because nowhere in the world could have been safer, and because there was no one who loved me more than him. 

Rubbing at my eyes, I stand back to look at my ever growing field of marigolds and imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t been so stupid. 

There would be many more marigolds. 

All so much more worthy of my fathers love than I could ever be.


	2. Not today; he smiled at me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know

I was at the store when it inevitably happened. Two months after my father died. My hair was pastel pink. I read somewhere that dying your hair makes you appear more feminine. Just over two months ago, that thought would have made me so fucking angry. But I just felt numb. I had lost too much to care; my dad, my mother.. myself. I had to swallow down the aching sob that was so desperate to escape my throat.  
Then Josh walked in. 

“Tyler-”

“-Don’t call me that.”

Josh had pity swirling in his coffee rich eyes.  
I looked down.  
The anger was radiating through my stomach, rising up my throat, and my hands closed into fists at my side.  
‘’You’re not happy, Joseph.’’  
It pulsed in my neck. My veins threatened to explode.  
‘“Why can’t you just fucking say it, Josh?! Just say my fucking name.”  
I looked up.  
His eyes. Drowning in sadness, shock, something resembling fear stared right through to my soul. He turned to leave, shaking his head in disbelief.  
“This.. This is not who you are, Tyler. I can’t watch you dig your grave any deeper.”  
He choked on his words. Eyes fallen; lost and tragically soft.  
“I love you..”  
This time he let out a bitter, sad chuckle.  
“Then why are you dead set on leaving me?”  
The heavy feeling welling up behind my eyes became too much all of a sudden.  
He walked out of the shop, leaving me standing there with a broken heart and streaming eyes.

Josh had seen me at my worst.  
“Mary?.. Marigold?.... Mary!”  
The walls were echoing the sounds. A thudding like rain surrounded me as my eyes fluttered. So faint it was like a lullaby.  
“Oh God, Mary. What have you done?”

Flashing lights. Beeping machines. Dry mouth. Charcoal tongue.

“I thought I’d lost you.’’  
His piercing stare made me want to disappear.  
“Can I ask why?”  
I couldn’t have stopped the tears even if I wanted to. Silent tears turned to shaky breaths turned to shuddering coughs and spluttering lungs.  
I was crying so hard I had to be sedated.  
Josh wasn't allowed to visit me after that.

He’d seen me at my best.

The day I got out of the hospital, there he was. Grinning like an idiot, looking like a man in love, he stood before me and I almost couldn’t breathe.  
…  
“I brought you flowers. Sorry- I mean if you don’t like them… I tried to grow them myself but.. I’m not like you. You’re a connoisseur of plant pots. So.. here.”  
Taking the pretty orange flowers from him, I couldn’t help but smile for the first time in weeks.

We were on my bed. Legs touching. Arms brushed against each other in a way that didn’t feel accidental.  
‘’Mary..”  
Josh spoke softly, like his words were all sugar and melted butter.  
‘’Life is too short to pretend. I can’t do it anymore.”  
My brow furrowed.  
“ What do you mean?”  
A deep breath. Then..  
“I love you.. Marigold.”  
“wh-”  
“-Wait, Mary. Just listen. I love you, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I’m petrified I’ll lose you. Finding you like that.. It really put things into perspective for me. You are too important to me, Marigold Joseph. I couldn’t take it if you left me. You don’t have to tell me why, but I promise you it won’t change a thing about how I feel. I will always be here for you.”  
Tears were running freely down my face.  
Embarrassing really; how good it felt to feel something.  
“I don’t feel like Mary anymore, Josh. It makes me want to scream.. That name. It feels like something’s pressing down on my lungs, and I can’t breathe anymore. I don’t know what to do.”  
My breathing was horribly laboured as he pulled me into his chest, whispering sweet nothings to me.  
“I’ll call you whatever you want, Joseph. Any name, any place, any time. Remember that I love you. Remember, I know you, okay? You don’t have to hide from me.”  
I hesitated.  
It was small; quiet, and if he was anyone else he would have asked me to say it again. But instead, Josh held me tighter in his arms and whispered right back.

“I love you, Tyler Joseph.”

Josh cut my hair that night. It went from being halfway down my back (my mothers pride and joy) to stopping just above my ears. I couldn’t stop running my hands over and over it. I couldn’t stop looking at myself in the mirror, and imagining what it would be like meeting new people now.  
“Hi, I’m Tyler Joseph.”  
I’d shake their hand with a small, but sure smile.  
“This is my boyfriend, Josh.”  
I’d pull him close to me, smile too wide to feel real.  
And they might ask things like..  
“How long have you been together.”  
Or say..  
“You make such a lovely couple.”  
And for the first time in my life hearing those words won’t make me want to die.

I turned to Josh.  
“Thank you.”

He smiled back at me, and it made me marvel at just how much he understood.


End file.
